White Princess, Ebony King
by FrostedPurpleIrises91
Summary: A collection of oneshots consisting of the time before the events in "The Living and the Dead". All oneshots are treated as their own short story and will be updated when inspiration strikes. Onesided EowynXWitch-king. Movie-centric. Chapter 3: Eowyn has a most unusual and perplexing dream.
1. Vigil

**Hi there and thanks for clicking on this thing! So I'm still kinda obsessed with the idea of pairing up the Witch-king and Eowyn so I decided to entertain that concept/pairing a little more. Not only that, people seem to like it too so I didn't really have a reason to not expand on it more.**** This is gonna be a collection of oneshots which are little snippets and prequels of a sort to the oneshot I wrote concerning Eowyn and the Witch-king; "**_The Living and the Dead"_**. The oneshots will be short for the most part, I know that this one particularly was but I hope that doesn't equate to it being inadequate. For the most part, these oneshots will not really deviate from events in the movies/books. The only major difference is that well, Witch-king falls for Eowyn and he hovers around her as a ghost. Anywho, I will be updating the collection as more ideas come to mind. I will try to focus on both characters equally but I will probably be writing about Witch-king more since I plan on doing a oneshot about his origins and with him dealing with his rediscovered humanity. So, I hope you like this one and I hope you'll stick around for more that I'll post up sooner or later! As always, please leave a review if you wish and I always welcome constructive criticism. Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **"_Lord of the Rings"_**.**

Vigil

This was what regret had felt like to the Witch-king of Angmar...

Like so many other sensations and feelings, he had failed to remember them due to the omnipotent and corrupting taint of the Ring. Along with the love he felt bloom like a tulip and then flutter like a sparrow within his incorporeal body, remorse was another emotion that was making its return to him. He did not welcome it as longingly and warmly as love but he was somewhat pleased in a way since he was granted a free mind once again. Yet he had wished that guilt was something that he would not feel. It was especially painful for him since it was the object of his affections and his redeemer who was suffering.

To watch her cry on the still and cold armor that covered her uncle's chest was enough to make him wish he could weep alongside her. Already, he was so sorry that he had done this to her and the former Nazgûl lord yearned that he could undo what had been done. He had wished he had seen the light and been saved from Sauron's influence a little bit earlier so that he could prevent himself from targeting the Rohirrim ruler.

Regret continued to relentlessly and mercilessly hound him though when the shieldmaiden had collapsed shortly after she had watched Théoden perish. Ếwoyn had fallen victim to the Black Breath. When she had struck him, he had not even realized he had infected her with the insidious ailment since he had been so entranced by his newfound freedom and the revived love he felt forming within him. The Witch-king had wished he could properly control that demonic ability during that moment when she had stabbed him that had released all the dark energy that comprised and surrounded his being. It was an unintentional effect and he could not restrain it.

Though the battle went on around her, she fell into unconsciousness. When he had finally died, the Witch-king had surprised himself by turning his back on the light that had beckoned him to the spiritual plane to meet his makers and ultimate fate. He had seen that although he had longed for freedom from his evil master far longer than he had truly realized, he was not ready to cross over just yet. Alongside the affections he suddenly and strongly developed for her, he felt compelled to somehow safeguard her in her state of helplessness. Where Ếowyn lied on the bloodied earth, he invisibly knelt down beside her.

_"Although I barely know you, young maiden, I have learned one thing about you. You are far stronger than some men and I can personally attest to that… I know you can survive this. No, I need you to survive this. Though I cannot do much for you nor reverse the effects of the Black Breath, what I can do is remain by your side. That is the very least I can do for you."_

He said those words to her as he remained close to her unmoving form. Steadily, he felt her life whittling away as the sickness began to waste her away. Her color faded and her golden hair seemed to grow duller as long as it persisted. He had hoped that even when she was unresponsive, she could sense and feel someone comforting her. Preferably, he hoped that she would not know who gave her invisible company and comfort while she remained vulnerable and seemingly dead.

His fingers ran through her hair, almost as if he was trying to console and calm her. The dark soul had treasured this moment for he knew that if she was awake, she certainly wouldn't be letting him touch her. Calmly yet with swelling concern and worry, he looked upon her worsening face, admiring her still beautiful and strong features. For as long as he gazed upon her visage, he began to fall deeper into love with her. Silently, he begged and entreated her to remain sturdy and stubborn. Wordlessly, he encouraged her that she was much too young and good to die like this and that her time had not yet arrived. One hand remained enclosed around her own, refusing to let her go, fearing that her soul would depart her body if he released her.

Luckily, help soon enough arrived when her brother, Ếomer, had come across her. The prince had immediately assumed the worst when he saw his beloved sister lying so motionlessly on the ground and he had fallen down to his knees in extreme woe and grief. At last, her unseen guardian had released her from his hold and allowed him to rush her back to the safe confines of Minas Tirith for recovery.

He followed them to the Halls of Healing and there he watched them treat her. Never once did he stray too far from her side and without the mortal men knowing, he hovered closely behind them and observing every movement and action they did. Even as she slept while the medicines Aragorn gave to her combated the effects of the Black Breath, he remained unwavering and steadfast. His fingers would sift gingerly through her locks as he stared down upon her face. Far too quickly, he had grown partial to the woman who understandably would've and should've been his hated nemesis.

When his stare was not fixated on her, he would look eastward, to Mordor. Even if there was no window available, the Witch-king would continue to face that direction. Alongside love, regret and sorrow, he was also starting to remember what anger felt like. He had hoped that Sauron could feel the hatred and furious aura radiating from his spectral shape being directed to him from afar and behind the city walls…

(…)

Sleepily, Ếowyn's eyelids parted. Earlier, she had awoken to find Aragorn tending to her condition but now she found herself under the devoted and friendly watch of her sole surviving family member. Weakly, she smiled at Ếomer.

"How long have you been watching me?" she cleared her throat upon discovering it sounded scratchy and groggy.

Her sibling said nothing in reply. All he could do was stare back at her from his seat by her bedside. More than anything else, Ếomer was just happy that his sister was pulling through. A part of him had felt that he was going to be further in debt to Aragorn for he had known exactly what to do with treating an ailment bestowed upon one by a Ringwraith. He had also felt humbled and thankful that Gondor's heir would personally dress Ếowyn's wounds and treat her while she remained incapacitated. Just to see her eyes open and to hear her using her voice again made hope flourish and fill every chasm of his being.

"What matters is that you are recovering, sister," Ếomer smirked softly. "You broke my heart when I found you."

Ếowyn returned the grin. She stirred slightly beneath her covers, nestling herself into them a little deeper to remain warm.

"Were you touching my head just before I woke up?" she asked almost casually.

Ếomer's brows furrowed and his smirk faded. He felt a chill course up his spine and then spread throughout his body. The air had briefly become unnaturally chilly to him and he could not explain where the phantasmal air came from.

"Why?" he pressed, wanting her to answer his question before he could reply to hers.

Now it was her turn to express a tiny amount of concern. She wore a confused look for a moment, wondering as to why her brother seemed worried by her curious and harmless inquiry. His reaction was making her a little unnerved.

"It was just a question, Ếomer," she said. "Perhaps I was just having a vivid dream… I felt someone stroking my head as I was waking up. I laid there for a moment or two, enjoying it before I finally opened up my eyes. It was very soothing. I just wondered if it was you doing it or not."

"It was a dream then," the man finalized. "I was sitting here for a little while to make sure that you were alright. There was no one stroking your head, Ếowyn."

When he gave her an answer, she felt closure. Ếowyn no longer felt insecure or paranoia creeping in. In reality, it soothed her. It almost made her feel better and at ease. The unexplained hands had also made her think less of the nefarious illness that almost destroyed her. Since the touch was so tender, sweet and warm, she had no qualms with it. She even looked forward to feeling the sensation again whenever she was waking up from slumber again.

"It's my mind still fighting off what remains of the sickness," the shieldmaiden rationalized. "Nothing more and nothing less…"


	2. The Servant Serves Nevermore

**Hi and thank you guys for the reviews/follow! I'm glad that you like the concept of this collection of sorts and that you'd like to see more. So for this one, there's not much romance/fluffiness in this but I still decided it would be important to include considering it's between the Witch-king and Sauron. I hinted to it in the last oneshot for a reason since I wanted it to foreshadow what exactly happens in this one. The italics in this oneshot and in the future ones denote a character's thoughts or between two or more characters, a telepathic conversation as you will see between Sauron and his former servant. I won't say much about this other than I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you all enjoy it as well! Drop a review if you like and please read on!**

The Servant Serves Nevermore

Night had only recently fallen on the magnificent city of Minas Tirith but in the east, it seemed as if the sun was rising. Over the black, jagged peaks that had separated the realms of Gondor and Mordor, a great yet hellish luminosity lit up the skies, coloring them with various hues of red, orange and yellow. The source of this ominous conflagration came in the form of Mount Doom whose rivers of magma contained within its body were threatening to be vomited out at any moment. Thick and choking gray plumes of smoke snaked from the mouth of the active volcano and penetrated the atmosphere, distributing its acrid pollutants. The rumblings of the terrible mountain sounded much like a wrathful dragon and unsettled the neighboring inhabitants of the white citadel.

Although a battle had been won by the forces of righteousness a few days earlier, an air of tension and suspense held Minas Tirith captive. The victorious still felt anxious because of the thunderous and chaotic symphony of Mordor. The reality that they still had to confront yet another vile legion of Orcs very shortly further unnerved them. It needed to be done though. If they were to survive, they would ride out to the Black Gates. They would also need to strengthen their resolve and place their renewed hopes and trust into two resilient and determined Hobbits.

The denizens of the city had decided to turn in early on this evening; the labor and stress of the battle was still heavy on their minds and bodies. Many had heard the chorus of the Black Lands but equally as many chose to ignore it and instead focus their energy on preparing and recovering in what little time they had left.

While many had opted to ignore the foreboding call of Mordor, one man had chosen to face it. He even had the audacity to glare at it in ire and sharpen his gaze to see the Great Eye. He was a casualty of the battle and was once a feared and mighty agent of Sauron but he no longer looked at the cursed land with an admiring yet unfeeling stare. In death, he was now defiant to his previous overlord and enslaver. The fiery display being reflected by the thick clouds that surrounded Mordor reminded him of his own anger that seethed and built up at a frightening pace. For so long, he had blindly and unthinkingly heeded the whim and wishes of Sauron but now the memories of being under his service revolted him and infuriated him. During that time, he was not his own man and had not been granted an ounce of free action or thought. Everything he had done, said or thought was under the constant influence of the Dark Lord. It was all because he accepted a gift from a seemingly kind soul by the name of Annatar…

The Witch-king of Angmar could wait no longer. He feared that if a living soul had approached him unknowingly, he would unleash all his pent up hatred and anger on that being. For now, he needed to depart and direct his hostilities to Sauron. One of the very last things he wanted to do was to harm an innocent person.

His helmeted and ghostly head turned and he looked over his shoulder. Behind him lain a woman in her bed. The Rohirrim princess was still recovering from her wounds and she was now sleeping deeply and peacefully. He was confident that she would be alright since her ailment was stabilizing and she was no longer in grave and immediate danger. Not only that, he had seen that she was in good hands. As awkward as it once seemed to him, the Witch-king had trusted her caretakers who were once his enemies. The spirit was reluctant to leave her side but he felt it was appropriate to confront Sauron one last time. As soon as the meeting was finished, he would promptly return. As usual, she would remain oblivious to his presence.

He could hear and feel a gust of wind around him. He stepped closer to the window and partially leaned out of it. Seeing no other way to make it to Mordor in a swift amount of time (and preferring to not think of any other ways), he dematerialized and allowed the breeze to bear him. Then he manipulated the chilly air and steered it to the east.

(…)

Sauron had sensed his greatest servant's demise from afar. First, he had felt that he could no longer feel a strong connection to the Witch-king. The revelation had startled him and he almost panicked, fearing that some sort of powerful, opposing magic had overridden the bonds he placed on the Nazgûl lord or his own sorcery had somehow weakened. Then seconds later, he couldn't feel his presence at all. It was almost as if he had disappeared from Middle-Earth entirely. When he had turned his Eye to the battle taking place at the Pelennor Fields, he had discovered the truth and had seen nothing but a pile of robes and discarded armor.

The loss of his lead Ringwraith was a shock and an inconvenience for Sauron but it was not a vastly significant one to him. He reasoned to himself that he had eight other remaining Nazgûl at his beck and call. They were still formidable minions and the Witch-king's second-in-command, Khamûl, had stepped up to take the place of his superior. It would be a shame that the Witch-king would no longer be in his employ but he would not dwell or focus on it too much. To Sauron, he was just another slave. He was a slave that had commanded more value than some random Orc but he was still expendable if it called for it and he could be replaced fully in time.

From out of the blue, Sauron then sensed a very familiar presence drawing closer to his domain. For the fleetest moment, he had questioned himself, wondering if he was just imagining things. He had been under a lot of stress lately, particularly because of his loss at the Pelennor Fields and his Ring had remained elusive. But as long as the presence advanced to his lands, the Dark Lord saw that he wasn't hallucinating.

"_Khamûl's reign will be short lived it seems,_" he thought to himself. "_This is a most unexpected yet pleasant twist… I thought he had died. No, I saw his shrouds and armor! I felt him perish!_" Sauron still felt the odd disconnection he had experienced with him. "_But why can I feel that he is no longer bound to me?!_"

For a few seconds, the Eye blazed angrily at this reality. He hated uncertainty and not having any questions answered. At the moment, he would have to wait for some explanations until his unexpected visitor arrived. Perhaps he would have an idea of how he miraculously came back.

Sauron received somewhat of an answer when he suddenly saw the apparition of the Witch-king manifest before him. He had hovered in the air before the Eye, his familiar eyeless gaze peering back at him. The Eye's pupil compressed in puzzlement for a few seconds before it then dilated to its normal shape. The fallen Nazgûl had indeed been slain at the Fields and he was appearing before Sauron as a specter. He had expected the Witch-king to have had passed on to the Halls of Mandos for judgment and then tossed into the Void for his thousands of years of dark deeds but here he was in front of him. It was a conundrum for him. But then he smiled inwardly, assuming that his second-in-command refused to rest in peace out of sheer devotion to his master. However, he did not speak at all, only staring back fearlessly into the Eye.

"_I have many questions for you, Witch-king,"_ Sauron started, deciding to break the silence between the two of them. _"I knew you had died and there was no way you could come back to life…"_

"_I won't answer to you anymore, knave," _was his cold reply. _"I will reply to you as I see fit."_

The telepathic conversation between the two was then temporarily cut short by the Witch-king. Sauron was beyond livid. He had been interrupted curtly by his underling and he had the gall to announce that he would no longer obey him. The flaming Eye seemed to grow brighter as his dangerous and wrathful anger flared up.

"_It is that accursed break in our bond that is leading you to act like this!" _he fumed. _"You wouldn't dare to speak like this to me normally!"_

"_You speak the truth about one thing at long last," _the Witch-king said mockingly. _"If I had not been killed and freed from my horrid imprisonment, I would've been following you around mindlessly like some unintelligent lamb as I had done for the longest time. Now I have been enlightened and I am regaining more and more of my humanity. It is a sad irony that in death I have felt more alive than I have had in many years. I have come forth to express my…extreme distaste to how you have treated me and so many others."_

"_HOW DARE YOU!"_ The Eye was now looking more like a roiling sun now as Sauron's fury was reaching its breaking point. Deep within the fortress below, his physical body was violently clutching his throne's armrests at his servant's deliberate disobedience.

"_Well, I can say I'm pleased fire isn't a weakness of mine anymore…" _Witch-king muttered. The brightness and intensity of the flames had made him look away for a moment but he then refocused his attention onto Sauron. _"You have robbed me of my life, Sauron. I still do not remember much of my old life but I do recall that I was once a king. You took me away from my kingdom, my people and my family… I can only imagine what became of my realm when I fully succumbed to that wretched ring you bestowed upon me… I probably left it in ruins and forsook it."_

"_It was your own weakness and fault that you accepted the ring! You were a stupid, foolish, old man when I came to you all those years ago! You asked me if the ring would help bring prosperity, plenty and peace to your kingdom and of course I would say yes! So whose fault was it, Witch-king? You were responsible for your own fate before I ensnared you. You were the one that walked into my trap…" _He snickered lowly and looked at the phantom belittlingly. _"I remember the time I came for you when I sensed the ring fully consumed your mind, body and soul… You were whimpering behind your throne like a coward, murmuring and crying to yourself. You had tried your hardest to fight back against it but in the end, you failed miserably like the other eight!"_

The Witch-king was glad he couldn't recall on that exact memory just yet but he sensed it would make itself known to him in time. For a moment, Sauron's words had humbled and humiliated him but he reminded himself that there was no need to fear or heed the Dark Lord any longer. He was already dead and it was not like he could experience a second death at his hands. A low and dangerous hiss emanated from within the darkened cavity where his face once was.

"_That may be true, Sauron, and in time, I know I will remember such a memory but for now, it is eluding me," _he spoke after a few seconds of silence. _"That is something I will be forced to cope with whenever it finally returns to haunt me."_

Sauron scoffed darkly. The Eye continued to furiously stare at the immaterial Ringwraith.

"_If that be the case, then you will be tortured by your conscious and the memories of the…"_ He maliciously savored the painful revelations the spirit would be forced to make amends with eventually. Unknown to the Witch-king's knowledge, Sauron knew very well of what happened to the former king of men when he had accepted the ring. He often entertained himself with the memories of what his Nine Riders had to endure during the time their respective rings had ruined them. _"…unfortunate and sorrowful things that had happened due to the sole fact you had accepted my gift."_

"_I'm already paying for it now, Sauron," _the Witch-king growled as he struggled to prevent himself from shrieking in fury and hatred. _"I know my soul is most likely predestined for the darkness and agony of the Void because of that foolish choice I made." _If he could smile at that moment, he would. _"The sole comfort I take in that fact is that I will not be suffering in that hellish pit by myself. Soon enough, Sauron, you will join me. I can sense that the hour of your demise is at long last upon Middle-Earth. It will be the most liberating and glorious hour that it will ever experience. At long last, you will taste retribution and answer for your crimes against the world."_

"_Do not become so hasty to trust in your optimistic and misleading feelings, Wraith. As long as the Ring is not yet within the interior of Mount Doom, then I am still deathless! I am beyond the Valar! I am above being cast into the Void!" _For a moment, Sauron fell silent and his curiosity was piqued once more regarding the topics of the afterlife and divine judgment. _"Though I know you have come here to heckle and harass me, I am still ignorant of the mystery of how you still you remain in this realm… It is obvious to me that you are still bound but for what reasons, I do not know. Don't be shy to tell me. You've already earned an eternal enemy in me and I will never forgive you for your rebellious obstinacy…"_

The Witch-king very well knew of his motives and wishes to not pass on to the other side yet he had no desire to voice them to Sauron. A part of him had feared being cast into the Void for his thousands of years of service to the fallen Maia although he had been manipulated and controlled for that amount of time. He had avoided the call of the heavenly realm because he knew he would be judged before the holy hosts. Undoubtedly, he knew what their verdict would be and no matter how much he would beg and plead, they would ignore his requests for mercy. He had deeply regretted serving Sauron and committing the wicked and atrocious deeds he had carried out under his command but more than anything else, the Witch-king felt that his remorse would never be enough to pardon his sins.

When he was at death's door and the dark magic that kept him anchored to Sauron had been dispelled from him through Merry's enchanted dagger, he felt as if he was waking up from the longest nightmare. At that moment, he felt as if he was himself again. He felt as if he was sleeping for thousands of years and had suddenly woken up as if he was a mere man. To his great disdain and misfortune, it all turned out to be too real and horrible to be a devilish reverie. It was very real and he was now a condemned and hated soul. In the eyes of many living souls, he wasn't even a man; he was more of a creature or an entity of pure intent and terror than anything else. That had actually pained him to know that.

He also stayed rooted in the physical world for another reason. The Witch-king fortified his emotions and steeled himself before the Eye. He dared to not bring the blonde-haired princess into this and possibly have her targeted by Sauron. A mere thought about her made his being feel incredibly light and joyous but he could not let him know that. He did not fear Sauron but he feared what he could do to Ếowyn.

"_I stay here because I wish to see you fall,"_ the helmeted specter said venomously. _"Perhaps I will rest in peace when I see you perish at long last. I know that it will take this beautiful land some time to heal itself of the wounds you've inflicted on it but as long as you are permanently purged from this realm, recovery is an inevitable and steady process. Your monstrous and ugly presence will certainly not be missed."_

"_You are a monster as much as I am, Witch-king,"_ Sauron reminded him. _"You are not loved, you are reviled and cursed. You have no friends, allies, family or servants. No one mourned your death or offered prayers for you. All your legacy will ever consist of is your disgraceful defeat at the hands of a Halfling and a daughter of Man. You will be remembered as a mere servant of mine. History will forever remember you as an undead abomination and in time, you will be forgotten about completely. Perhaps you will be a whispered story around a bonfire but nothing more."_

The Witch-king screeched in blinding rage. His ear-shattering cry lasted a good ten seconds long and he didn't care even if all of Middle-Earth heard the ungodly raucous. The unmistakable call of the Nazgûl was something that could hardly be misidentified as another thing. He wished he was temporarily restored to his undead state and be granted his magical capabilities so he could deafen and drive the legions of Mordor's Orcs mad with terror and desperation with his scream.

A mere few seconds after he had fallen silent, he felt the approach of the remaining Nazgûl. He had felt their stirring when they had sensed Sauron's agitation and anger but now they felt their former leader's presence. In the distance, he could hear the beating of the fell beasts' wings as they mounted their draconian creatures and flew to the Eye's unmoving position.

"_Release the others from your power, Sauron," _the Witch-king demanded. _"My only release was death! They do not deserve to exist any longer like this! Would you please spare your servants some pity?!"_

"_They are mine,"_ Sauron refused. _"Even if I did accept your asinine request, they would have nowhere to go or nothing to do other than to serve me. They have served me so long that I am all they know. They are nothing more than mindless drones like you once were, my once devoted and powerful servant. They have no one to return to. The kingdoms of Men would not accept them into their ranks because they fear and hate them. I give them purpose!"_

"_It is better to have a free mind and soul! It is better to have no purpose than to be enslaved to your will for many more millennia and have no memory of your former existence! They will die under your influence as I have!"_

"_Then they will die as I see appropriate and at my command if I deem it! What do you care of that soulless lot anyway? They do not miss you and they have accepted your demise. Your humanization is most troubling and disgusting… I thought that perhaps maybe I could have you join me once again but you have softened in such ways that I could not even conceive. I do not ever wish for you to serve me again. And do not try to hide it any longer from me for I feel something stirring within you."_

Instantly, his defenses bristles and he tensed up. He snarled at Sauron to put on a threatening and seemingly invulnerable display for him.

"_The only stirring you sense is the terrible fury I am trying my hardest to restrain because I cannot do anything to an accursed, giant, flaming eyeball!" _the darkly clothed ghost spat.

"_There's more than that," _Sauron pressed. _"There's something about your whole aura that seems different. Of course I can see and feel the violent anger you're experiencing but you also seem lighter."_

His thoughts had turned to the maiden who had captured his affections and attention. By doing this, he knew the Dark Lord would peer into his innermost thoughts but he couldn't prevent it from happening. The Witch-king imagined Ếowyn still sleeping peacefully in her bed in Minas Tirith as he had left her. She was safe and sound there and he should've remained by her side. If he had not departed to confront Sauron, she would not risk being exposed further to him.

"_No!"_ he blurted. _"There's nothing different other than the fact I have been freed and I yearn to see you destroyed more than anything else! It is none of your concern either way!"_

"_Oh, is that so?" _the greater of the two evils wondered out loud. _"I do believe you are lying to me. I've peeked into your petty, little head and I saw the so called 'man' who killed you. You're trying to protect her from my sight. You don't want me to see her because you fear what I can do to her and make your existence even more miserable."_

The high-pitched shrieks of the other eight Nazgûl rang loud and clear through the sulfur-infused air. The Witch-king turned his head from left to right, seeing the black clad Wraiths circling around him. They stilled their fell beasts in mid flight, making them hover in the air. He disregarded their presence and refocused his attention on Sauron. What mattered to him most was preserving the princess. There was no way he was going to allow him to send a lowly minion to lay a finger on her or glare at her malevolently from Mordor. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he could actually protect Ếowyn physically from any malevolent intent due to his status as a spirit but he was certainly willing to step up and fulfill the task especially if she was going to be at risk.

"_You leave her out of this, Sauron,"_ the Witch-king warned. He exhaled, hissing and sounding much like a cranky snake that was rudely disturbed. _"She has already suffered enough and you have no business with her."_

The reply that he had received was a loud, deep laugh. It reverberated so loudly that it seemed as if the fortress below was trembling and quaking from its magnitude. The Witch-king did not sway during this and refused to show any signs of weakness. At this point it was obvious he knew about his feelings towards Ếowyn and there was no reason to try to conceal it any longer. It would be hopeless to try to convince him otherwise now. But what he could do was protect her as he had been doing.

"_I will not hide the fact from you no longer…"_ he said quietly. _"I have fallen in love with her. She does not know I am safeguarding her but I do not mind that at all. In fact, I would prefer her to not know. Despite that, I will not yield her safety to you and I will do all in my power to make sure that she is secure and content."_

"_You have fallen in love with your murderer,"_ Sauron deduced. _"Whatever has become of you, Witch-king of Angmar? Has death driven you insane and led you astray from me and my guidance so quickly and dramatically already?"_

"_She made me see the light and truth of your machinations. She freed me from you! Her deed of slaying me had been the single most kindest and merciful thing anyone had done for me in my life as a damned and hated undead creature. You kept me chained up for thousands of years and now that my mind has been freed and my humanity has been rediscovered, that is all I could ever ask for at this point. Sauron, I highly advise you once more to free these poor Nazgûl and the other unfortunate souls you have enslaved or they will all perish. Your defeat is inevitable and it is only a matter of time that you will be overthrown."_

The former Nazgûl leader once again gazed upon the remainders. Their invisible and unsettling eyes stared incessantly at him while they still sat astride their winged mounts. Their fell beasts roared and snarled as they started to become impatient with hovering in one position in the air for so long. One quick and sharp tug on their reins reminded the creatures of who was exactly in control and they rumbled quietly beneath their masters.

"_We do not wish to be freed!"_ A single Ringwraith shouted. The Witch-king locked his attention on the servant of darkness, seeing that it was Khamûl that had spoken. _"How dare you blaspheme and slander our one, true lord and master! If you will not rejoin us, I command you to leave! You have no place amongst us now that you have changed so much… And you ought to heed me, traitor, since I am now the leader of the Nazgûl with your death."_

The Witch-king pitied his brothers. Though the others had not voiced their own opinions he had a good idea what their collective mindset was about him and his presence there. Sadly, he had seen that in order for them to be freed, they would have to be killed as he had been. Sauron was too cruel and greedy to release them and allow them to have their humanity granted back to them. His words meant nothing to him and the Nazgûl were firmly under the Dark Lord's control with no hope of escape.

"_Well said, my loyal and devoted servant,"_ Sauron said in a pleased voice. _"You see, Witch-king, your efforts are all but null in the end. You've only succeeded in showing just how weak you've become. You needn't worry about the princess you fell in love with either… In time, my armies will reach Minas Tirith and they will engulf the world entirely. She will die soon enough. Now be gone, I am growing quite weary of your presence and your preachy words."_

He knew Sauron spoke the truth about that. His words would only be a wasted effort if he tried to speak with him further. There was no point in remaining in such hostile company any longer. There was no reason there other than evil intent and desires.

The beating of the fell beasts' wings had provided him with the gusts of wind and the swift passage he needed to return to the White City. Without saying another word, his form evaporated and he departed to the west.

(…)

She was in the exact same position as he left her when he left. It appeared that she had not stirred at all during her slumber. Her eyelids were tightly shut and she looked serene and content. Ếowyn slept as if she was ignorant of the brooding evil in Mordor and the strange specter that had attached to her side.

Her odd guardian seated himself at the foot of her bed, taking care to sit down gently to not inform of her presence. He had realized he had the power to make himself noticeable to the living if he desired it but he did not want her to know of his attendance. The Witch-king was not entirely comfortable with making his presence known to her considering he knew exactly what she thought about him.

With a silent turn of his head, he looked over her again to see if she was alright once again. He felt her stir a little under her covers and then subside. The threats of Sauron were still on his mind but he was confident that the forces of Men would not go down without a long, bloody and assault against the hordes of Mordor. A small part of him felt insecure and anxious about the looming battle and he feared the possibility of Ếowyn being captured or killed. Sauron knew about her and his attachment to her now.

"_Please make haste, Hobbits…wherever you are," _he pleaded. _"If I had been freed from Sauron earlier and had not been slain, I believe I would've aided you in your quest but I cannot do much for you now. Far too many lives are on the line for you to slow down or have doubts in yourself. I know you are in Mordor but I beg you, hurry! You have come so far and endured so much…why not press on and give it everything you have?!"_


	3. The Old King

**Hey guys thanks for the review/follow/fave and I'm glad at least some people like this odd pairing. Now for this chapter, it's mainly a dream sequence so that's why it's in italics. I won't reveal too much other than obviously this is a short oneshot and Eowyn starts to wonder about some things... So please enjoy and drop a review if it strikes you fancy!**

The Old King

_Ếowyn didn't have the faintest idea of where she was but all she knew was that she was in a beautiful garden. All around her, she was surrounded by slender saplings that were bedecked with blossoms varying from different shades of pink, white and red. Alongside the young and fragile trees' flowers, their soft and vibrant green leaves bloomed, looking like a cornucopia. A far greater selection of flowers surrounded the trees at the base of their trunks and their spectrum ranged from yellow, red, orange, pink, white and purple. The way the sunlight shone on this oasis made the flora seem to almost glow and their already rich colors seemed to brighten. A million pleasant and different aromas from the flowers wafted gently and lazily through the air and into her nostrils. Amidst all these flowers, she spotted small groups of bees busily buzzing along as they collected the nectar from this beautiful and bountiful buffet of flora._

_The walkway she was on was constructed of mud brick and as she looked more closely to gaze at its finer details, she could see bits of seashells inlaid. Becoming more and more aware of her surroundings, she could notice that she caught scent of a truly alien but invigorating aroma that smelt faintly of salt. A droning and therapeutic noise that was always in the background but something that she just noticed became prominent to her. Her gray eyes looked away from the seashell encrusted bricks and she caught sight of a gorgeous, sapphire colored sea. _

"_W-where am I?" she asked herself out loud. _

_Jogging along the path, Ếowyn walked over to a moderately tall, stone wall that stood as high as her chest. Beyond that wall was a steep cliff and directly below was the sea pounding at the land. Wherever she was, she was right by some unknown sea. She had never seen it before but the sight she was presented with far exceeded any expectations and imaginings she had about such a landscape before. _

"_A garden by the sea…"_

_Obviously, she was dreaming and she was fast asleep in Minas Tirith, fighting off the stubbornly remaining fragments of the Black Breath. She was no longer in immediate danger of the illness killing her but she still required much rest and relaxation to make a full recovery. This was the first dream she had in a very long while and Ếowyn was simply relieved that it was not about her facing that devilish and foul undead creature again. As long as she wasn't having a reverie about that encounter, she would not question why her mind was conjuring such a serene yet unexpected setting. _

_The shieldmaiden turned her back on the sea after gazing over it in utter awe and admiration for a few minutes. Again, her eyes fell upon the beautifully unearthly garden and this time, she walked along the path at a more relaxed and leisurely pace. Above her, the sky was a light blue, looking like a sharp contrast in comparison to the dark blue of the sea. A few stray wispy clouds stretched across the sphere but luckily brought no ominous promise of rain or bad weather to ruin the scene._

_For as long as she remained in this ethereal garden by the sea, Ếowyn could feel her hot warrior's blood cool and settle. It was all too perfect and unnaturally soothing to feel aggressive or inspire one to fight. The aura that this place was radiating might've even had the power to quell even an Uruk-hai's volatile, belligerent and bloodthirsty tendencies in her own opinion. She felt as if the grief, strife, worry and anxiety was stripped from her being and tossed into the blue and white waves of the sea behind her, never to hound her again. Despite her sudden carefree and tranquil feelings, Ếowyn still wondered where exactly she was and who had planted and cultivated such a garden._

_Then she received a possible answer…_

_She rounded a bend in the walkway and nearly walked into someone. Luckily, she had halted in her footsteps just in time before she could bump into this soul. Ếowyn took a few steps back so she could get a better look at the person's whole shape._

_This other visitor of the garden was obviously a man and it was even more obvious that he was an aged individual. His beard was nearly snow white as was the wavy, shoulder length hair on his head. Vaguely, he reminded her much of Théoden regarding age but this gentleman was perhaps no more than a decade older than her uncle. The man wore a crown on his head as well that didn't really stick out as being impressive or luxurious even though he appeared to be a king. Despite his older age, he was taller than Ếowyn and she stood just below the base of his neck. He wore faded robes but it seemed that when they were new and freshly donned long ago, they were once colored dark blue and gray. His facial expression was as peaceful around them and he was wearing a small, amicable smile. Lastly, his eyes were gazing directly into hers and that had sent a slight chill down her spine. _

_In silence, she stared back at him, half expecting him to say something to her. But as long as they kept studying one another, Ếowyn saw that she was going to be the one to speak who'd speak first. Something about this man seemed hauntingly familiar but in reality, she had never met this man before. He was a complete stranger her but despite this, she felt compelled to ask him if they knew each other somehow. She was also in the audience of a king as evidenced by the crown on his head and for all she knew she probably was invading his gardens._

_Ếowyn curtsied to him, showing respect to him and displaying that she meant no ill will or harm. Then she turned her eyes back to his once more, still seeing that warmth in them. Perhaps he knew her too but wanted her to speak first…_

"_Forgive me, milord," she started, feeling mystified and curious by this encounter. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding in your gardens but I found myself here. I know this is a dream but where am I? And may I ask who you are exactly?"_

_She fell silent and waited for him to reply. The seconds whittled by but the old king still remained quiet. His stance was not menacing or threatening and he still appeared to be friendly and calm as he had been since she first laid eyes upon him. The man's stare did not relent but it didn't make Ếowyn feel dreadfully uncomfortable or awkward. At any moment, she expected him to say something or to even greet her… _

_But nothing was ever said._

(…)

Without being alarmed by the content of her dream, Ếowyn awoke. She sat up in her bed, feeling puzzled and her curiosity piqued. Her dream had ended abruptly as she waited for him to speak. For all she knew, perhaps he was ready to address her but she conveniently awakened when he was about to do so.

To her disappointment, it was still evening but she hoped that dawn was on its way in another few hours. Then again, she hoped and wondered if she could even fall back to sleep. Though the dream wasn't a nightmare and was pleasant despite its mysterious nature, Ếowyn felt her thoughts would be centralizing on the incident. It was very likely that she would be denied of sleep for the rest of the evening due to her racing mind.

The appearances of the sea and the old king had befuddled her and she didn't have the slightest idea why her mind would conjure such imagery. She had never seen the sea in real life. The aging monarch was also someone she had never laid eyes upon before so she was at a complete loss as to why this was happening…

"I mustn't fret and put too much thought into something harmless like that," Ếowyn scolded herself. "It was just a product of my weary and recovering mind. It happened once this night and it will never happen again."

Paying no heed to the exceptional and surprising chill that inhabited the air, Ếowyn forced herself to clear her mind and resume slumber. If she had looked towards the direction of her balcony and not rolled over and shut her eyes, she would've seen a shadow standing before her. Even if she had spotted him in that moment, her eyes would be invisible to the faceless smile he was extending to her…


End file.
